Teddy Ben
by Princess Pinky
Summary: Amy discovers the secret Ricky has been keeping from her and comes to a realization about her heart.
1. That's When Your Heartache Begins

**A/N:** This'll be a two-part story.

_**Teddy Ben**_

**That's When Your Heartache Begins**

Amy Juergens descended the stairs of her childhood home, stepping closer and closer to something else from her childhood: the wild slamming of fingers into a piano. But her parents had never had a piano when she was growing up. She crinkled her nose, her mind racing to place the sound. It right on the tip of her memory, burning like a red coal to be recognized. As the sole of her shoe touched the last step, she heard a deep, pleasantly earthquaking voice.

"Ooooh baby let me beeeee!" the voice drawled out, "Your lovin teddy bear! Put a chain around my neck and take me annnnnnnywherrrrrrrrre!"

Amy placed her hand to her mouth, stopping in the entrance to the living room. She saw her father, adorned in a thickly knitted raven haired wig and a flashy white faux leather suit, studded with silver chunks. The bell bottoms were flapping around his ankles as he jumped around the room, clenching tightly to a bejeweled microphone and throwing his body against the sounds of the music. Behind him, on the television set, the screen was blue, with white letters appearing in time with George's voice.

At the piercing sound of John and Robie's laughter, Amy was finally forced to expel a giggle herself. The boys were too caught up in their grandfather and father respectively to notice, as was George himself, but the teenager saw the third head on the couch turn in her direction, which she realized belonged to her next door neighbor, Ruben Enriquez. She pinched her lips together to keep from interrupting them again and waved shyly to Ruben, who threw a courteous wave back.

"I don't wanna be your tiger!" George shouted, grabbing a tiger stuffed animal from Robie's playpen and thrusting it at his son with a throaty growl, which Robie wrapped his arms around and squealed senselessly at. "'Cause tigers play too rough!" He whirled around so fast, his Elvis wig flew off his head and landed in a heap across the room, prompting Moose to jump up and howl in time with George's voice. "I don't wanna be your lion!" he snapped his fingers at Moose, then pointed towards a small picnic style blanket on the floor covered in toys. Obediently, the Golden Retriever trotted over and snapped up a pale yellow stuffed lion with a cartoony grin in his jaws and dropped it at George's dancing feet. George gave Moose a gentle scrub under the chin, then grabbed the toy and tossed it to his grandson, who promptly threw it back at him. George grinned and swiveled his head. "'Cause lions ain't the kind you…love enouuuuuuuuuugh!"

Amy dropped against the frame of the living room entry way and smiled, her mind flitting through a slideshow of her father's Karaoke Nights with her, Ashley, and their mother as a child. Occasionally even with Mimsy and Grandpa Robert. Her father had always been partial to the Elvis songs and Mimsy loved to egg him on, given that she had been a huge Elvis Presley fan back in the day. She had even loved to brag that Elvis once came down off stage when she'd went up to one of his shows at Lake Tahoe and given her a kiss, after which, George made a point to end Family Karaoke Night by giving Mimsy a kiss in his full Elvis getup.

"I wanna beeeee!" George hummed, his voice mumbled and nearly indiscernible; more of a sensual groan than anything. "Yourrrrrr teddy bear!" He spun around the room like an albino colored whirlwind and ended up behind Amy. "Put a chain around my neck," he sang, dropping what looked like purple Mardi Gras beads over her head, "and lead me annnnnnywhere!" He looped his finger through the beads and tugged her up to the television, despite her verbal and visual protest. "Oh let me be!" He waved his hand towards the couch.

"Oh let him be!" Ruben chorused, along with John who tried to say the same, but ended up just yelling, "Let beeee!" And for Robie's part, the little blonde boy who babbled something, while clapping his stubby hands together and drooling on his stuffed tiger. Moose bounded up beside Ruben's side of the couch and barked as loud as he could.

"Your teddy bear!" He scooped his daughter up and spun her around.

Amy shrieked and felt the blood rush from her head to her cheeks before George set her down. Her hair was in a flying mess around her face and she felt like Cousin It, but when she heard the shrieking hoots from her son and baby brother, the embarrassment melted away. _Mostly._ Ruben was still there, after all. When she finally pushed her hair out of the way with her palm, she noticed her dad had his arm behind his back and she smirked, knowing what was coming.

"I just wanna be your teeeeeeeeddy beeeear!" He drew his arm out, producing John's favorite teddy bear like a magician would produce a rose and she couldn't hold it back any longer: Amy burst into hysterics, laughing so hard she thought her stomach might burst at the seams. She snatched up John's teddy from her dad and gave it a powerful a powerful squeeze, then she threw her arms around her father and hugged him fiercely, burying her still laughing face into his uncomfortably studded suit.

Applause, woots, and sheer cries of exhilaration came from the couch, accompanied by the thudding of Moose's tail against the floor. Ruben reached over to scrub the dog behind the ears, to which Moose began to thump his tail that much harder, while also emitting a low howling noise of approval.

George wrapped his arms around his eldest's shoulders and pulled her into his side, then gave his best lip curl and replied breathlessly, "Thank you…_thank you very much!_"

Amy elbowed his dad playfully, still laughing, on the edge of coughing she was laughing so hard. She held the bear to her stomach for support and looked up at her father, noticing sweat beads on his forehead. She smiled and inhaled deeply, forcing as much composure as she could muster. "Anyone up for something to drink?"

Ruben shot up from his seat. "I'll help you-"

Amy waved her hand dismissively. "I've got it," she assured him. "I'll be right back."

"Besides!" George crooned. "You're up next!"

Amy slipped into the kitchen, leaving behind the sounds of Ruben's protests. She dropped the bear onto the table and began to poke around in the refrigerator. Given that she and John weren't living there anymore, Ashley was in Florida, and her mother usually had Robie, it was unsurprising to find that only a thin pool of milk covered the bottom of the milk gallon and a few cans of beer were scattered in the side of the door, amongst some ketchup and mustard bottles. She frowned and shut the door with her hip, then meandered towards the cupboards, which she predictably found bare except for a half eaten loaf of bread, a week past the expiration date, and a half used bag of C&H sugar.

Amy strummed her fingers along the countertop, then gave a quick look over her shoulder before clamoring onto the countertop like she used to do when she was younger so she could reach all the way up to the top cupboards. Amy pawed around, producing nothing. Then, just when she thought she'd have to take everyone back water, her fingertips brushed against something in the far reaches of the cupboard. She pushed a little further, but her fingers were slipping against the smooth surface, so she pulled her hand out and breathed across her fingertips, then reinserted them into the cupboard and managed to lull out whatever she had found.

"Kool-Aid," she mused. "Haven't had that in a while." Amy had no idea how long it had been there, but it was her favorite, Blue Raspberry, so she got to work, grabbing the pitcher from one of the cupboards beside the oven and pulled out the half pound bag of sugar. She poured in a measured cup, as per the directions, then with a little smirk, added a second – unmeasured – cup. "Screw healthy," she grinned. "Just for tonight."

Swiftly, Amy stirred the blue powder and sugar together, then dipped the pitcher into the sink and turned on the cold water until it reached just an inch below the top of the pitcher and stirred it until the sugar was no longer swirling at the bottom of the container. Using the oversized metal spoon she'd stirred it with, she took a quick taste, and grinning, she abandon the spoon and filled up two glasses and half filled two sippy cups. With a glass in each hand and the sippy cups tucked between her arm and her chest, she carried them out to the living room and passed them out.

Ruben took a sip and frowned. "A little sweet, isn't it?"

Amy played dumb. "Seemed fine to-"

"Ames has been adding a second cup since she was a toddler," George interjected. "Just go with it. But what I would advise you on is her spaghetti-"

"_Dad!"_

John giggled and shook his sippy cup at his mother. "Moaw!"

Amy frowned and wagged her finger. "No, John. You have to go to sleep tonight and Mama has a test to study for in the morning."

"C'mon, Ames!" George whined. "The only thing sugar really does is put kids to sleep anyway."

"Yeah, after it revs them up for hours." Amy put her hands on her hips.

"Okay," he relented. "Fine…then…then what about letting him stay over tonight? Huh?"

Amy crossed her arms. "Dad-"

"C'mon!" he begged, setting his glass on top of the television set and pressing his palms together, ready to kneel down as if he were praying. "We were having so much fun!"

Amy surveyed the group: her dad, Ruben, John, Robie, and Moose. "A regular Boy's Night In, huh?"

In response, Moose barked and thudded his nail against Ruben's leg.

"Pleeeeeeeease, Ames?" George begged, making his eyes impossibly larger.

Amy groaned and then threw her hands into the air. "Fine! Fine," she sighed. "But only because I can see how much fun you're all having and…because I really need to ace that test."

George grabbed Amy by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. _"Great!"_ he beamed. "You just go –" he hesitated, almost saying _home_, then thought better of it "–study hard and bring home an A. You don't have to worry about John at all! In fact, you could even leave him here all weekend if-"

"Dad," she frowned.

"Okay, okay," he sighed. "Fine. Just tonight and until you get off work tomorrow." He gave her a gentle hug.

Amy nodded and yawned, only just now aware of how tired she was. "I'm gonna grab the clothes from the dryer and then head off then. See you tomorrow!" She quickly moved to the couch and gave Robie a kiss on the forehead, then scooped up her son and smothered him with kisses and a hug. "You be good for Grandpa, you hear?"

"Good!" John echoed, hugging his little arms around Amy's neck.

"I love you, John."

"Love Mama!" John cooed, his brown eyes gleaming like butter soaked brown sugar.

Amy set him back onto the couch, lingering a moment before moving away. She gave Moose a good natured scrub under the chin, then waved light heartedly to Ruben before running back into the kitchen and pouring herself a tall glass of blue Kool-Aid. She drank it up, hoping it would give her energy for the drive home, then ducked into the laundry room and shoved all the now cold clothes from the dryer into her laundry basket. She had no desire to fold them tonight and was not about to run the fluff cycle; she'd just deal with the wrinkles.

Five minutes later, Amy padded up to the front door with her backpack on one shoulder and laptop bag on the other. As she reached down to grab the laundry basket, George bounded up beside her and grabbed it instead. "Thanks, Dad," she smiled gratefully.

"Are you sure you don't wanna spend the night too?" he asked hopefully.

"All my stuff's at home," she yawned, internally wincing at the look on her dad's face. She knew he hated it when she called Ricky's apartment her home. "Anyway," she said, shaking her head. "I have to get back home and see if the plumber came and fixed the backup we were having in the sink. I thought Ricky would've called and I tried to call him, but all I got was his voicemail." She shrugged as they reached her van and she unlocked it, allowing George to lean in and set her clothes on the floor. "So I'll see you tomorrow."

Amy dropped her laptop onto the laundry pile and her backpack beside it, then kissed her father's cheek. "Don't stay up too late!" With a slam, the back door to her van shut and she rounded the vehicle to the passenger's side and climbed inside. As she turned on the car, she saw George slink back to the front door and wave to her as her headlights burned to life and she waved back, then pulled out and headed for Boykewich Butchers.

In reality, the drive wasn't that long, but it seemed to take forever. By the time she was parked, she hadn't the strength nor patience to make two trips to lug everything upstairs, so she just took her school supplies. She was surprised to see that Ricky's car wasn't in the parking lot, where it usually was. Not thinking much of it, she disarmed the alarm system, slipped inside, and rearmed it before she went up to the miniature apartment. Barely keeping her eyes open, Amy managed to jam her key into the lock and slip inside.

Despite what she'd intended, there would be no more studying tonight. With another yawn, she locked the door and stumbled into the kitchen, hoping to see a sparkling sink. To her disgust, it was still full of chunky brown water, with a cottage cheese like film across the top. Her stomach lurched as the smell wove into her nostrils and she turned away. "So much for the plumber," she groaned. On her way back to the living room, she noticed a small piece of paper on the table, with Ricky's handwriting. Picking it up she saw that it read: _Ran to the store for milk. Be back soon._

Amy smiled slightly and dropped the note back onto the table, then collapsed onto the pullout sofa. As she rolled onto her side, she felt something hard jab her in the side. With a grunt, Amy sat back up and reached for the offending object: Ricky's phone. "No wonder I haven't been able to get ahold of you all day." As she moved to set it on the table, she noticed it blinked, then flipped it open to find the words: _1 New Message_.

Her eyes wandered towards the kitchen. "From the plumber?" she wondered aloud. Her thumb hovered to press the number one to call Ricky's voicemail, then hesitated, questioning if that was an invasion of Ricky's privacy. She rolled her eyes then. "It's not like I'm snooping," she resolved. "And it's not like he's…got anything to hide." Hesitation forgotten, Amy pressed the button and the phone began to ring in her ear, until a mechanical voice picked up.

"You have: One. New. Message. Received: today, at five-thirty-five P.M."

Amy tried to remember whether or not the plumber had said his office was open until five or six. But then a familiar voice, Margaret's, filled her ear. Not the plumber after all. With an annoyed sigh, she opted to save the message and was about to close the phone when she heard the metallic monotone speak again.

"Message saved. You have: One. Saved. Message."

Amy mulled over the idea. On one hand, it might be a bigger invasion of his privacy. On the other, he had been home, as per his note, so the message could still have been from the plumber. Risking it, she pressed the button to play the message.

"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…_and_, I _know_ you've been thinking about me. _Goodnight,_ _Ricky._"

Adrian's voice! Amy's mouth went dry and her heart ceased to beat. She could barely see, barely breathe. A message like that, from _Adrian_? _Saved_ on _Ricky's_ phone? Her hand clenched around the phone. With shivering hands, she pressed the number four button, to find out when the message had been sent. As she heard the monotone voice say the date, her eyes glazed over as she counted back the weeks in her head: it was the same day that Adrian had informed her she had called Ricky. The same day Ricky had _swore_ he erased the message, without even listening to it!

Unadulterated rage bristled from her fingertips. She cast the phone across the room, where it smacked into a vase she'd set up last week when Ricky had brought flowers home to her. The vase reeled on its edge as the phone bounced off and smacked to the ground, sending the battery pack flying off of it. A second later, the vase toppled too, shattering crystal shards, water, and flower bits into a sloppy mess on the ground. Amy grabbed a pillow from the couch and buried her face into it, screaming through her tears.


	2. Love Me Tender

**A/N:** Thanks for reviewing! Here's the conclusion.

_**Teddy Ben**_

**Love Me Tender**

As the heartbroken seventeen-year-old sat with her bare legs drawn up to her chest and her face smashed into the fibers of her sofa bed pillow, she slowly thought back to her father's offer to spend the night at his house. She could drive back there, if she wanted. She wasn't tired anymore. Scarlet rage had replaced her need for sleep. But that thought went as quick as it came: she had no desire to explain Ricky's betrayal to her dad tonight, let alone wake John up with her sobs.

She thought of her squirrely haired little boy and the pain in her chest deepened, swallowing her up like a pulsating black hole. Amy hugged her pillow tighter, wishing it was John. Wish it was soft and cuddling and, "A teddy bear." She suddenly wished she had taken home John's teddy bear, but she had no idea she'd need it. She began thinking of her favorite teddy bear growing up, a pink and white one with a heart shaped nose. Her name had been Valentina. Oh, how she had cried the day Valentina got left at the park and when her parents had taken her back to find her, Valentina was nowhere to be found.

The thoughts of the pain she felt back then folded into the pain she felt now and a new batch of tears broke from her eyes. The pillow felt warm and wet beneath her cheeks; the small brown fibers and her own strings of hair sticking to her face. She could feel the heat rising from it, like a small radiator. Amy imagined it was a good shade of flushed red. Then an image began to materialize in her mind: soft and brown, cuddly and sweet. A bear. Not John's bear, not her own bear, but Ben's bear. _Mr. Bear_. The one Sarah had given him. The same one she rescued from the church nursery when Adrian had given all of Mercy's things away. _Adrian._ The name scorched like lava against her thoughts. The way her heart had broken for Ben when she'd seen him in the parking lot that evening blared behind her eyes.

"_Do you want your things back?" she asked cautiously, with a faint smile._

"_Yeah…There is one thing I'd like back."_

_Amy stared at his face a moment, then reached into her bag, retrieving the stuffed animal. "Mr. Bear?"_

_Ben kind of laughed and exhaled at the same time. "H-how'd you know?"_

"_You told me about him…your mom gave him to you." She shook her head and pushed a strand of hair from her face. "I knew that it was probably a mistake, that he ended up in a box with the other stuff. And…um…I can go get all your other things back, if you want. I'm really sorry, Ben. I didn't know that you didn't know."_

"_That stuff doesn't matter…I'm not even sure that this matters. Heh. I'm not sure that anything matters at all."_

Amy sat up and pushed the pillow away from her lap. She'd been too angry that night to reflect on anything but the latter half of their conversation, but now, with weeks of retrospect, she could see. Ben wasn't talking about Mr. Bear at all. What he wanted back was _her_. Amy's heart did a double take.

"_Ben," she squeaked. "Don't." She shook her head._

"_What happened to us, Amy? I really loved you. And John."_

"_And I loved you. But Ben, it was never going to work. We just couldn't see it."_

"_Can't you see," he pleaded, "that it's never going to work with Ricky? He's not…he's not good enough for you! And sooner or later, he's going to hurt you. That's who he is."_

_Amy felt her fists clench. "That's who he was," she replied, determined and unforgiving. Then she turned and climbed into her van, driving away without looking back._

But Ben was right. Ricky was going to hurt her. And he did. All this time, she thought he hadn't cheated, but she had feared he would, so she'd even gone as far as to send his mother and her father to his apartment when she went up to visit her mother for the weekend. It had taken so much searching to finally trust him enough to move in with him, truly believing that he had changed. And now, she saw the truth. "He _lied_." She punched the pillow. "I trusted him!" she yelled. "And I was such an idiot!" She smacked the pillow off the couch and then turned her eyes on the cell phone, wondering if it was permanently broken.

Silently, Amy rose to her feet and collected the cell and the battery, pushing them back into one unit. Unlike her heart, apparently it could be done. She turned on the cell and waited with baited breath until the device turned on. She stalked back over to the couch and sat down, dialing Ricky's voicemail again. It rang and she waited, then played the first saved voicemail. _Adrian's voicemail._

"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…_and_, I _know_ you've been thinking about me. _Goodnight,_ _Ricky._"

"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…_and_, I _know_ you've been thinking about me. _Goodnight,_ _Ricky._"

"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…_and_, I _know_ you've been thinking about me. _Goodnight,_ _Ricky._"

She couldn't stop listening to it. The hate in her heart was churning like waves on a stormy night. Amy wished so deeply that she could just reach through the phone and tear out the Latina's voice box. She _hated_ her! And worse, she _hated_ Ricky. Maybe even more than Adrian. Finally, her mind was made up. She knew exactly how she was going to handle the situation. She would _wait_.

Twenty minutes later, Amy heard the key in the old lock. She was seated stiffly on the couch, with her hands piled onto her lap, and Ricky's cell phone hidden beneath her layers of fingers. The air was still, like death. She didn't watch, but she listened as the door opened, followed by the rustle of plastic grocery bags and the shuffle of Ricky's shoes. She didn't move.

"Is John already in bed?" he asked, moving noisily to the table.

Amy didn't look up; didn't speak.

"Amy? Are you listening to me?"

Deftly, she unfolded her hands and hit the speaker button. With another command of her fingertip, the phone crackled to life, filling the room with Adrian's spicy voice.

"Long time, no see. I've been thinking about you…_and_, I _know_ you've been thinking about me. _Goodnight,_ _Ricky._"

When it was over, Amy finally looked up to see Ricky's face. He was frozen, immobile, a flesh colored statue. She stood and replayed the message, then watched as Ricky's head began to shake. Gooseflesh and rage prickled across every surface of her body. She pointed her finger at his face. "Don't you _dare!_" she snarled. "Don't you _dare_ tell me it's not what I think! Ricky, you lied to me. Right to my face! Over and over! I_ begged_ you to tell me what she said and you said you erased it, without listening! I pleaded with you not to have anything to do with Adrian and goddamnit, you lied to me straight faced!"

"We haven't done anything!" he screamed. "We haven't!"

"You still lied!"

"You lied to me too!" he exclaimed. "About-"

"Yeah," she agreed. "I did. And you called me out on it and I admitted _I was wrong_. But that doesn't give you a free pass to lie too, especially not about your ex-girlfriend leaving sexy messages on your phone! It's not even in the same ballpark as the same thing!" She hurled the phone at him, hitting him square in the chest. When he winced, she felt a jolt of pleasure at his pain. "The truth is, you're not over Adrian, are you?" she snarled, her eyes shedding water again. "The only reason you even broke up is because she slept with Ben and it hurt you so bad you ran away from your son – your whole life – because of it! If Ben and Adrian hadn't – if _we_ hadn't – we wouldn't even be together right now! You know, I thought we could be a family, but the fact is, just because we technically make a family – a mother, a father, and a baby – doesn't mean we can or _should_ be together."

"Amy, I'm-"

"You're not. That's the thing: you're _not_ sorry. Or you wouldn't have saved Adrian's voicemail and continuously lied to my face about it."

Ricky curled his fists. "What about – what about 'now and forever'?"

Amy shook her head through tears. "No. _No and never._" She snatched up her backpack and laptop and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Where ever you're not," Amy whispered, her voice ready to crack. She didn't even have any idea herself where she was going when she got into her van. All Amy wanted to do was be as far away with Ricky as she could get. She just pulled out of the parking lot and began to prowl the near empty streets.

When her tear ducts were raw and dry, she finally found herself in front of Ben's house. Not the Boykewich Mansion, but Ben and _Adrian's_ condo. The porch light was on and she trembled at the thought of getting out. She wasn't sure she wanted to confront Adrian tonight and allow her to see the messy puddle she'd turned her into with a single voicemail. If, in fact, that's all it had been. All throughout her pregnancy, Adrian had held it over her head that she was having Ben's baby. Marrying Ben. And even insinuated that Ricky had had the best sex of his life with her. She tried to ignore it and be happy in the belief that she had really changed Ricky, as he claimed she had. No more lying, no more cheating. That was more than Adrian could say. But that, too, was a _lie_.

Looking around, she noticed that she couldn't see Adrian's car anywhere. But she did see Ben's. It was as if her heart had been given a sudden injection of adrenaline. Before she knew what the hell she was doing, she found her legs carrying her towards the front door and her thumb pressing against the doorbell. She wanted to run, but her legs seemed to be rooted in place. When the door opened, it was like a scene out of a movie: Ben standing before her, tall and dorkishly handsome, surrounded by light from inside the condo, like an ethereal savior.

"Amy?" Ben uttered, confused. Then his eyes widened and he touched her cheek out of instinct; out of memory. "What happened?"

"I – is_ she_ here?"

"What? Who?" His face clouded like a storm "Adrian?" Then it darkened, pregnant with anger. "_No._ And she won't be here tonight. I was just collecting some things-" He shook his head and wrapped one hand around her waist, pulling Amy inside. _"What happened?"_ he repeated.

"You were right," Amy whimpered. "Ricky hasn't changed as much as I thought." She fell into a heap on Ben's couch and he seated himself right beside her. "He lied to me." Turning to face him she explained, "I found a message on his phone. He lied point blank about it. From _your wife_."

Ben swallowed. "Soon to be _ex_-wife," he corrected. "What…what did it say?"

Amy shook her head. "I don't even want to think about it again." She buried her face into the fabric of Ben's sweater. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "You were right. That night in the parking lot, you were _right._"

Ben rubbed his hand to her back, tuning it with the grooves of her spine and tangling his fingers into her silken hair. "I'm sorry."

Amy relaxed a little. It felt right, Ben's hand on her back. And the smell of his skin. His voice in her ear. Everything was right. Except it was all wrong. "I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool. You just wanted to believe in something. That's not foolish. _I'm_ a fool. Everything I've done, now _that's_ been foolish."

"Helping me through my pregnancy wasn't foolish."

"No, but sleeping with Adrian was. And kissing Maria."

"And I forgave you for all that. But I never stood by you through Adrian's pregnancy, like you stood by me. How hypocritical was that? How _foolish_."

"It wasn't fair to expect you too. I'm an idiot."

Amy churned her head to look up at him, staring at his long, gawky neck and fingers as they stroked her hair. Her thoughts flashed back to her father, running around the living room in his Elvis costume. "Wise men never fall in love."

"What?"

"It's a song," Amy replied, almost laughing. "An Elvis song."

"Costello?"

"Presley. 'Fools Rush In.' Don't tell me you've never heard it."

"I'm ashamed to say, Elvis Costello was more known in my house than Elvis Presley. My mom _loved_ Costello."

Amy nodded. "Well it goes something like, 'Fools rush in, where wise men never go. But wise men never fall in love, so how are they to know? When we met…'" She pursed her lips, squinting to remember the rest. "'When we met…I felt my life begin. So open up your heart and…'" She sighed, gazing at Ben with his rounded liquid eyes. "Let this fool rush in."

Ben stared at her, before breaking a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. "I'll have to look that one up sometime."

"No," Amy said, shaking her head in flurry. "That's not what I meant."

"_Yeah…There is one thing I'd like back."_

"Like that night in the parking lot, when I didn't get what you meant, you're not getting me now. _Ben_," she said deliberately, "let _this_ fool rush in." She pressed her index finger to her heart. It startled her to say it, but she didn't regret it after she did.

Ben's lip shivered. "I don't want to be your rebound guy," he whispered, body shaking.

"That was Ricky. After you, Ricky was my rebound. That was why I wanted to compete with Adrian so badly and why I hated – _despised_ – the idea of her marrying you. I think…" she looked down at her lap, ashamed. "I think that I thought if I could do everything you and Adrian were doing, then I could prove to myself I was just as happy with Ricky as you were with Adrian."

"I was only 'happy' with Adrian, because I thought you were happy with Ricky. Don't get me wrong, I loved Mercy – I always will – but it was her that made my life with Adrian seem bearable."

"Bearable," Amy repeated. She smiled shyly, like she had back when her and Ben were just getting to know each other. "Where's Mr. Bear?"

"Why?" Ben asked, knitting his brows together.

"I just kind of…" Amy shook her head. "No reason. Actually," she suddenly threw her arms around Ben, like he was an oversized bear himself. "I don't need a bear," she murmured. "I have you. I've always had you. I just forgot for a while. I was the fool." She sighed and pressed her cheek to his chest, listening for his heartbeat. "My loving Teddy Bear."

Ben snuggled her back. "Is that another Elvis reference?"

"Yes."

Ben smiled. "Well, I think I do know something from _one_ Elvis song," he admitted. Whispering a mist into ear he said, "I'll be yours through all the years, 'til the end of time. Love me tender –"

"Love me_ true_. All my dreams fulfilled. For my darling, I love you–"

"_And I always will."_

Amy snuggled against Ben. He'd loved her from the start, always had and always would, and she realized then that that was the best thing she could ever ask for from a lover: love unconditional. This was _real love_, right here, in the heartbeat of their moment.


End file.
